


Empty

by hyliank8



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, Emotional Abuse, Gen, Guilt, Hurt No Comfort, Nightmares, Passive Suicidal Ideation, Physical Abuse, Self-Hatred, emotions manifest in self-destructive ways sometimes, sans misses gaster A Lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 14:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19770583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyliank8/pseuds/hyliank8
Summary: Gaster's gone.  It's his fault.





	Empty

**Author's Note:**

> tw: second person POV, but "you" refers to Sans.  
> read the tags before proceeding, please.  
> this sorta ties into this ongoing headcanon i've got where sans n gaster were lab partners (and lovers since we're sanster trash here) before gaster is erased from existence following a gradual decline in his sanity

He’s towering over you as you lay on your side on the tiled floor of the lab. You’re unable to bring yourself to move a muscle; you’re exhausted. Tired of trying, of failing, of never being enough. You should be afraid, you note distantly, but you can’t bring yourself to feel anything.

He takes a step closer to you, and you’re vaguely aware that he’s all you’re able to see. Darkness surrounds him, surrounds the both of you; it’s unclear how exactly you’re so sure that you’re both in the lab, considering how little you can see of your environment.

He crouches down until you can see his face, and he’s close enough that you can see the scars that are etched there. The origin of both is at the edge of either eye; one stretches up towards the crown of his head, the other reaches down to the edge of his lip. You vaguely recognize these scars as meaning… _something,_ to you.

 _Guilt_ is the word that comes to mind, but you’re not sure what that means.

You loved him once, didn’t you? Your soul used to shiver when he treated you this way, when he spoke sharply to you, when he ignored your protests and your begging and continued hurting you. But your soul is still, now; empty, devoid of all feeling.

You don’t protest anymore, you don't beg. You’ve accepted this interaction between the two of you as fact; this is just something that has to be done. It makes sense to you, really, that he’s doing this.

He grabs your chin with a scarred hand, forces your head to turn unnaturally to face up in his direction. His expression is pulled into an ugly scowl as he studies your face as if he's searching for something. He scoffs and then rises, letting go of your chin.

“Disgusting,” he says. His leg rears back, and then his hard leather shoe smacks into your skull. You feel a crack splinter through your forehead, but…

Interesting. That should’ve hurt, shouldn’t it have?

“I can’t believe I loved you,” he says. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were worth _anything_.”

He kicks you again, swinging with all he’s got. You hear a rib crack this time, still with no pain to follow.

“You deserve this,” he says, and the scars on his face darken, they widen from their usual pinlike width until there are huge rivers of black running out of either of his eyes. He reels back again— _crack._ Another rib. “You hear me? You _deserve_ this. You’re useless. You said you loved me but you couldn’t even keep me _alive_.”

And suddenly you _do_ feel something; your soul is aching, crying out with desperate longing. Why can’t you feel the pain? You want it so, so badly. You want agony, and you want nothing else. 

Because he’s right; it’s what you deserve.

He stomps on your forearm. You hear a _crunch_ as your radius and ulna splinter under the impact. Still no pain. “You knew I was falling,” he says. He slams his foot down again on the same spot, shattering your bones irreparably. Nothing. Your hand lies uselessly beside you, detached from the rest of you. It’s interesting, you ponder, being able to feel the loss of the limb without any of the pain to come with it. “You knew I was losing it and you _couldn’t stop it_ because you’re _worthless!_ ”

He’s right. You know he’s right.

With one scarred hand, he drags your limp body up off the ground by the collar of your white lab coat, bringing your face close up to his. Your hazy white eyelights meet his dark, corrupted purple ones. 

A thick, black sludge drips from the scars on his face. His gaze burns into you, and your Justice sears in your veins. You know what should be done.

This is all your fault.

 _Kill me,_ you want to beg. _Kill me, end my life, please._

But you can't. A distant part of your mind says something about your brother, something about little Papyrus. He would be… some sort of emotion, if you were gone, wouldn’t he? If you were dead, he’d be… inconvenienced, somehow. Upset? Maybe? It’s hard to think about what he might feel, hard to put names to emotions—you haven’t felt anything in so, so long.

Haven't felt anything but regret.

But he’d get over it, right? You don’t matter that much to him. It would be okay; you’re sure of it.

Your body’s broken, whether you feel its injuries or not. You’re prepared for your last breath.

Your lover's hand pulls back, and you know with how low your HP is that this blow will kill you. Your eyes are still open when his fist rushes towards your face.

You don't flinch; you welcome the darkness that overcomes you with open arms.

—

Your eyes open to your bedroom ceiling.

You let out a disappointed sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> hey, u made it!  
> i write [other](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17721968) [stuff](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18761323) as well hhhh more pain  
> come say hi on [ tumblr](https://hyliantimelordin221b.tumblr.com/) if u want !  
> anyways, feel free 2 lemme kno what u thought !!


End file.
